


Hold on tight, wait for tomorrow...

by whynotcherries



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 13:56:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18740422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whynotcherries/pseuds/whynotcherries
Summary: Neal goes to find some blankets below deck when he finds Emma having a moment.I took a prompt off ofthis liston tumblr





	Hold on tight, wait for tomorrow...

Neal’s not quite sure what to do when he hears the sniffling coming from the cabins.

He’d told Henry that he’d be right back, and he’d meant it- well, he’d thought that he’d meant it. After all, the plan was to come downstairs, grab the spare blankets, and head back up. Now, though… Well, now he’s not sure what to do.

He’s almost certain- well, like, 95% sure that it’s Emma. Though not much could get her upset, there were a few things that could, and the girl really, _really_ loved to argue; especially as a teenager. Which lead to a lot of other things happening, and eventually, her being extra upset with him.

Crying worthy upset.

Before, he’d just go walking in there. Now, though, she’s not particularly fond of him. Granted, she doesn’t seem to be thrilled with anybody at the moment- but she’s been upset with him for a while now. And, yeah, he might know her better than most (most being maybe even more than her mother) he doesn’t want to use that in a way that’ll make it worse.

Presenting the question: what should he _do?_

Leaving her alone- _nope_. Getting someone else to help her- _nope_. Helping her himself- _well…_

Running it through his head, trying to go in and at least further decide what to do couldn’t have too many consequences; worst case scenario, she throws something at him. Not that that wouldn’t hurt, but, hey, better than leaving he by herself.

So, after having returned the blankets to their usual place, he walks over to the door. Hopefully Killian hadn’t taught her how to lock the doors in here yet- pirate ship locks are nothing like tumbler locks, mostly because they’re _impossible_ to open from the outside.

He takes a minute to build the courage, mentally preparing to be hit with a book or candlestick, before gently opening the door. 

As he’d suspected, the sniffling ceases instantaneously. She’d never really been the type to be happy with people seeing her cry. Even after it had happened a bunch of times before, she still hid in his shirt in the last few months of them being together.

“Hey,” he calls from the doorway, not stepping in any further. He can’t see her, but he knows that she’s there; he can hear her breathing. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. Can I come in?” She doesn’t say anything, but she makes a short humming sound and he hopes that it was a ‘yes’ instead of a ‘no’. 

Still, even after knowing that she at least knows that he’s there, he still proceeds with caution- she’s probably still not too happy with him- which means a heavy object could still come hurling towards his head at any waking moment. 

 

He closes the door behind him as he walks in. He thinks about locking it, but he decides against it- the locks are a bit confusing (he’d needed to be reminded three times before he’d gotten it) and if she wants to storm off in the future, he’d like her to be able to do that sans help. 

Once he finds her, he has to stop himself from just pulling her to him and never letting go- she’s made herself into a little ball on the ground, and she’s still got tears on her cheeks, but she’s still trying to act tough. “Hey,” she sniffles, looking up at him.

He nods a greeting, not completely sure what’ll come out if he tries to speak, and he sits down in front of her. 

He takes a minute, just letting himself take all of this in, before looking over at her and daring to reach for her hand. “You okay?” she takes his hand ( _thank you, god_ ), but she doesn’t look up at him. In fact, she looks away from him.

He squeezes her hand and waits. He knows she’ll open up if she wants to- if not, that’s fine, too. He hadn’t even expected her to be okay with this, and yet, here they are.

She takes a bit to calm herself down some more (she hadn’t yet finished having her moment when he’d come in and it kind of threw her off) before looking up at him. “How’s Henry?” 

He nods, looking up, but not at her, still, “He’s okay. Tired,” _short and sweet_ , he reminds himself. 

“Is he down here or upstairs?” she asks, tapping her fingers on her knee- a nervous tic that he’d realized she had within three days of knowing her.

“Upstairs. I was grabbing some blankets from the closet,” she nods, and she takes her hand back.

“You should probably get those up there then.”

He gives her a concerned- not too concerned, he doesn’t want to scare her- look. “Are you sure? I can stay a while longer. It’s not cold up there, anyway, they’ll live,” he assures.

“Okay,” she puts her head down on top of her knees, which are pulled to her chest. 

It’s quiet for a minute, and then, “Are you okay, Emma?” she picks her head up and laughs.

“Since when am I ‘Emma’?” he tilts his head- he knows her too well. _Much too well_. “I’ll be okay. I’m just… overwhelmed,” her voice fades to a mumble, tearing up again, “I don’t even know why,” she laughs, wiping them away. 

He looks at her and just smiles for a second, waiting for something- anything to happen, when she moves to give him a hug ( _what is going on?_ ).

It’s not like he pushes her away, because why in the world _would_ he? Instead, he returns it- he doesn’t let himself get too close, though- he doesn’t want to scare her off. 

And then she pulls back (it’s been a little while since they started hugging in the first place, so he can’t be too upset about it, but he still wishes it would never end) and he notices that she’s been crying again. She wipes her eyes and chuckles again.

She looks over at him and laughs, and he’s sure it looks like he’s a bit ridiculous looking so concerned. “Really, though, since when am I ‘Emma’?!” she laughs and his whole face breaks into a smile. 

“Since we first found each other again,” he laughs and she smiles, tilting her head to the side.

It takes her a minute before she scrunches up her nose and looks over at him. “Really?” she smiles at him and he nods. “I guess I haven’t paid enough attention then.” He nods and reaches over to take her hand again. “Oh, and can you not call me that please? Like- you know? I like my nickname,” she laughs.

He raises his eyebrows, nodding, “Yeah, sure… Em,” and she smiles a huge, giant smile. There’s a moment of silence, “Can you tell me what happened? Please?”

She looks at the ground, her smile only fading just a little bit- thank god. “I still don’t really know. I’m just overwhelmed, I guess. It’s not often that your son _and his father_ both come back from the dead within a week- or at all, really. I’m working on it, though. I’ll be okay,” she promises and he nods, smiling and squeezing her hand.

“Good,” he responds, “that’s really, really good. And you know that I’m okay, right? Like- not completely healed yet, but-”

Her eyes go wide and she smacks his arm, “You’re not completely healed yet?!” 

And thus the anger starts again.

**Author's Note:**

> I really need to start posting on Both of Us again, but all of these are too long.


End file.
